


end of an era

by eloboosting



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M, character introspection, running away from problems, when your ex-teammates just won't leave you the fuck alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloboosting/pseuds/eloboosting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s true; a university degree would be useful, would represent a return back to normal. The thing is, Mingi hasn’t been normal in a long time, and after knowing what it’s like to play on a stage in front of tens of thousands, of having people walk up to him on the streets and ask for photographs and autographs—he’s not sure he knows how to live that life anymore. </i>
</p>
<p>CJ's just been relegated and Mingi's spent the last five years in a profession he may be forcibly retired from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	end of an era

**Author's Note:**

> I had other plans for this fic, but uh, I got a lot of cryptic _this_ instead. I had always wanted to write a Shy/Madlife thing, but NotLikeThis

“The end of an era,” they call it, “An unparalleled period of dominance—a team that boasted players that defined their roles and created the current roles meta.”

Players with moves  _named_ after them; the Flame Horizon, the Cpt Jack cleanse, the Insec, the CloudTemplar jungle tribute, _the_ Madlife—

But especially Mingi, with fans all around the world bemoaning the loss of Madlife, the God of hooks, the ultimate support, the revolutionary that changed his role from useless trash to crucial playmaker. There are calls for him to join another team, asking about his retirement, people flooding to his stream to express their condolences—

In the end, Mingi’s not sure whether to feel tired or relieved.

-

Hyunwoo had searched him out after the disaster of a series, swinging an arm around him as he pats his shoulder. “You can always join me on the desk,” he’d joked, and Mingi had scoffed—there’s no way someone with his introverted disposition would ever make it in a job as high-energy as a caster or commentator.

“Let’s be realistic,” he’d said dryly, letting Hyunwoo laugh and drag him out of the backstage area.

His team had been waiting somewhere for him, but Sangmyeon had been the only one they’d found then, face cupped in his hands as he rested against the wall.

“You’re both old now,” Hyunwoo had said, tone soft to dull the sharp edge to his words. “The game has changed, the champions have changed—you could never expect your performance to stay forever.”

Sangmyeon hadn’t looked up, and Mingi had closed his eyes, ashamed and bitter and a thousand complex emotions he had no idea how to define the churning in his stomach. He’d simply talked right down into his hands. “What a fucking way to go.”

- 

Hyunwoo had eventually been called away, and Mingi had met up with the rest of his team back in the practice room, spacing out as he stared at his computer while their coach tried to talk through his tears.

Maybe he’ll cry—but not now, not when there are people and cameras watching him from every angle, when he needs to maintain some level of composure for his young teammates to follow. He can’t feel anything right now, just tastes the disappointment and bitterness in his mouth.

“Next season,” he overhears, and his back stiffens at the mention.

He takes careful measures not to look any of his other teammates in the eye—he doesn’t know if there’s another season in him, not even sure if he wants to try.

- 

Hyungwoo catches him before they leave the stadium, grabs him by the arm and looks distinctly uncomfortable as he addresses Mingi.

“It sucks,” he says, and Mingi wonders if people will ever stop throwing him pity he doesn’t want. “Eat with me?”

Hyungwoo looks guilty and pathetic—more than Mingi feels at this point, and he sighs. Who is he to turn down a meal with an old friend, anyway? “Sure, just let me tell my team.”

At this point, his team and coach don’t very much care what he does with his free time, and they wave him off when he tells them about eating with Hyungwoo.  

“Have you thought about university?” Hyungwoo asks, hesitant as he slurps up some noodles.

Mingi stares apathetically back. “What for?”

“You must’ve thought about doing something after League,” Hyungwoo tries again. “What about the military?”

Mingi hasn’t thought about much of anything in the past few hours, replaying their losses over and over in his head instead. “Not everyone can be as multi-talented as you, Hyunwoo already teased me about casting,” he says instead, feeling a little bad at the hurt look Hyungwoo gets at the words, relenting a little, “I’ve thought about the military.”

“Even if it’s not casting,” Hyungwoo says. “A university degree is useful— _employable,_ even.”

Because what use is a five year pedigree as one of the most dominant players in a computer game to a company? Mingi had never had the largest aspirations, even when he was in school.

“Yeah,” Mingi says. “I’ll think about it.” Hyungwoo looks gratified at that, at least, and Mingi sighs. “How have your studies been, then?”

It’s true; a university degree would be useful, would represent a return back to normal. The thing is, Mingi hasn’t been normal in a long time, and after knowing what it’s like to play on a stage in front of tens of thousands, of having people walk up to him on the streets and ask for photographs and autographs—he’s not sure he knows how to live that life anymore.

- 

It’s been five years since Mingi graduated from high school, forgoing university for the chance of making it big as a League of Legends pro. It’s been five years since he’s been unemployed, life chock full of free time with no games or practices or events planned.

He doesn’t know what to do.

The distinct lack of pressure from having a tournament just on the horizon or the anxiety of each game, all the passion he had for winning. Instead, he’s left to look around his old room in his family’s apartment and finds himself feeling incredibly, stupidly old. He should’ve bought his parents a new house like some of the other pros had done. If just to avoid this awkwardness.

It’s been five years since he last stayed here, and even with the sparse decoration, trinkets of his past mock him from all corners. The certificate from an elementary academic competition in the corner, some old Gundam models he used to build and paint framing his desk, old books on his shelves.

When was the last time he sat down to read—the last time he _had_ time to read?

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this moment before, of finally retiring from after so many long, tiring years. But now that he _has_ , now that CJ’s been relegated and he’s essentially left without a team, stranded back at this old remnant of his past—

His body tells him he should be playing League and he almost makes the risky trip to a local PC Bang when Sangmyeon messages him.

            [6:11] Let’s go to Busan  
            [6:11] I haven’t been to the beach in forever

He stares at the message for a long time, blinking at the words before he finally types back:

            [6:16] When?

Sangmyeon doesn’t hesitate in his reply.

            [6:17] Meet at the train station at 11 tomrorow?

Mingi has never been one for spontaneity, has relied on careful planning his whole life. But in this case, what does he have left to lose?

            [6:17] Okay

- 

Sangmyeon doesn’t say a word when Mingi walks up to tap him on the shoulder at the train station, just stares at him like he’s looking at a ghost.

“I didn’t expect you to show up,” Sangmyeon eventually tells him when they’re on their train, comfortably tucked into their seats. Mingi has a backpack with a few changes of clothes and his laptop—just in case, he doesn’t know how long they’re expecting to stay in Busan, but it’s a three-hour train ride and that seems too long for just a day trip. “You never said yes whenever I asked before.”

_Back on CJ_ doesn’t need to be mentioned, and Mingi shrugs. “Now isn’t then,” he says, patting himself on the back for how wise and cryptic it sounds. Sangmyeon pulls a face at him. “What would you have done if I hadn’t shown, anyway?”

“Honestly,” Sangmyeon laughs, and Mingi has an idea of what the answer’s going to be. “Probably find a PC Bang and play League.”

Mingi rolls his eyes, settling back in his seat and sighing. “Typical.” Never mind the fact that that was Mingi’s plan as well.

Sangmyeon bumps his shoulder against Mingi’s, smiles wryly. “Well, you know what they say. Old habits are hard to break.”

- 

Changseok texts him partway through the trip, a very enthusiastic:

            [11:43] Come to America! ^( ^ω^ )> We can play together again

Mingi stares at it for a while, looks over to the side where Sangmyeon is peacefully sleeping against the window. He’s not sure if Changseok is being serious or trying to cheer him up, but either way, it leaves him a little bemused.

            [11:44] Shouldn’t you be practicing jungle? Even Chanyong took a while to get good

            [11:44] Aww, how sweet  
            [11:44] Are you worried about me Mingi~?

He frowns down at his phone, sighing a little noisily as he taps a reply. Sangmyeon stirs a little, ends up tilting over to lean against Mingi’s shoulder.

            [11:45] Play better, you’re giving us all a bad name  
            [11:45] And anyway, my English is terrible.

            [11:46] It’s not so bad, it’ll improve when you come!  
            [11:46] C’mon, don’t you miss me? (´ε｀ )♡

Sangmyeon’s breath is hot against his neck, and Mingi glances over at him as he tries to restrain his urge to face-palm at Changseok’s characteristic enthusiasm.

            [11:47] Come back to Korea, then

            [11:47] Don’t worry, don’t worry, I will~  
            [11:47] Vacation's soon, treat me to some good barbecue okay, hyung? ( ˘ ³˘)/  
            [11:47] Don’t you want to explore someplace new?

He sets his phone down as he looks out the window at the scenery passing them by. The train slowly turns to the side, gravity bringing Sangmyeon away from Mingi’s shoulder back to the wall again.

He’s always been comfortable on CJ—on a team with coaches and players he’s familiar with. He’s never seriously considered leaving before, but now—

- 

Today’s weather is sunny, perfectly bright and warm for their outing to the beach. Unfortunately, neither Mingi or Sangmyeon are exactly prepared for the trip—don’t really know what to do when they finally step onto the sand.

“It was your idea,” Mingi says, a little exasperated. “Shouldn’t you have thought this through?”

Sangmyeon shrugs. “I told you, it’s been ages since I was last here.” He slips off his shoes, balling his socks and slipping them into his bag as he carefully twists his foot into the sand. “Want to walk?”

Mingi isn’t a fan of exercise, but it’s a nice day and he has no other ideas of what to do now that they’re here. Like many other things that have been happening in his life lately, he just goes with the flow for once. “Fine.”

The sand is warm under their feet, and Sangmyeon even manages to drag him out to the water to dip their feet in. It’s cold and gross and Mingi immediately jumps away.

“Mingi,” Sangmyeon says. “We’re at the beach, come on—”

“Walk in it on your own,” he says crossly. He digs his feet further into the sand, lets the warmth of it burn into his soles. “I’m fine over here.”

Sangmyeon sighs. “You’ve always been so stubborn.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He looks over at where a light breeze is ruffling Sangmyeon’s hair, the wistful way he gazes at the horizon. “Let’s get something to eat.”

- 

Chanyong has never been very good at impulse control, has always been a little hot-headed and emotional when it came to things, so Mingi isn’t too surprised when he receives a message from him later that day. He’s a little surprised at how _long_ it took Chanyong to come up with something to blast him with, though.

            [3:55] I’m sure OGN would gladly hire you as a spectator  
            [3:55] Maybe then, you’ll see a correctly played game for the first time since the start of this season

He eyes the message a little critically, looks up to see Sangmyeon frowning down at his phone as well.

“Has Chanyong been messaging you?” he asks, and Sangmyeon immediately looks up at him and laughs.

“Oh god, did he just send you this shit?” Sangmyeon flips his phone over so Mingi can see—and, sure enough, Chanyong’s sent him the exact same thing.

“He’s never been good at voicing condolences,” Mingi says, looking down to type into his phone.

            [4:00] Thank you for your concern

He feels a little passive-aggressive for writing it, but there are few ways for him to respond to such a scathing message.

Sangmyeon chuckles a little as he writes his own reply, and Mingi can’t help but watch his smile. Not until Chanyong replies, anyway.

            [4:02] I know you had offers—you and Sangmyeon both  
            [4:02] Why did you stay?

He stares at the message, doesn’t notice the how tight he’s holding his phone until he finally lets it drop to the table.

            [4:03] Why did you leave?

“Let’s drink,” he says, and Sangmyeon looks up at him gratefully.

“Please,” Sangmyeon says, bolting out of his seat. “I’m sure there’s someplace open now.”

 

They don’t find any bars open at 4pm, but that’s why convenience stores exist. They grab a few bottles of soju (and cups, because they’re not _monsters_ ) and make their way back to the beach, scouting out a more isolated area away from the roving eyes of other beachgoers and lifeguards.

“I think this is the longest I’ve spent outside since I started playing League.” Sangmyeon laughs into his cups, runs a hand through the sand. “I don’t even like the water that much.”

Mingi leans back against some of the rocks behind them. “Yet you chose this place.”

“Yeah,” Sangmyeon agrees. “Who would’ve thought this is where we’d end up?”

- 

Of all people, Jangsik is the next to message, although his is more playful and teasing than anything else.

            [6:23] Have you thought about coaching?

He’s just spent the past season trying to raise a team of rookies to the Champions level and failed. Coaching, right.

            [6:24] How’s handling Hojong?

The reply is immediate.

            [6:24] A disaster  
            [6:24] I swear he wasn’t this bad on Blaze

And maybe Mingi’s a little drunk now, a bottle of soju in with Sangmyeon urging him onto a second.

            [6:25] He was playing on Blaze

He looks at the words, feels like something’s not _quite_ right.

            [6:25] He was winning on Blaze

Because in the end, isn’t that what it comes down to?

-

Somewhere along the way, they stop for dinner at a small restaurant tucked away along the route from the beach to the hotel Sangmyeon’s booked. Because at least he’s planned _that_ far.

“It’s too hot for barbeque,” Sangmyeon complains, and so he drags Mingi for milmyeon. And then he drags Mingi out to a bar, plies him with soju until he’s even drunker than that afternoon.

Sangmyeon looks over at him, passing along another shot of soju for him to shoot down. “You know, I thought about retiring—but never like this, being relegated and forced out of a job.” He laughs, bitter and tired, just like how Mingi feels. “This fucking sucks.”

He looks down at his hands and tries to ignore the emptiness he feels in his chest. He’d started with MIG, with a bunch of kids who dreamed about making it into Champions from Challenger, but had never really _believed_ —

And after five seasons, he’s right back where he started, albeit much more experienced and a mountain of weariness and anxiety crippling his stamina.

“This sucks,” he repeats, because he can’t think of anything that can accurately depict how he feels right now. He shoots down the shot and passes his glass back to Sangmyeon for a refill. And he doesn’t usually swear, but in this case— “God fucking dammit.”

Sangmyeon peeks over curiously at him, but he obediently fills up his glass. “That’s some harsh language.”

He closes his eyes, ignores the steady hand Sangmyeon places on his shoulder. “Is this how it ends for us?”

“Probably,” Sangmyeon says with a shrug. “Unless—”

The alternative to retiring is unthinkable for Mingi right now—not with so many people hounding him for an answer, not as someone who's been through the pain and torture of pushing a team through the promotional tournament before.

He shoves a glass into Sangmyeon’s hands. “Don’t say it,” he warns. “Not right now.”

And he’s usually never this pushy, so Sangmyeon must take the hint, staying silent and refilling his glass. “As you wish,” he says, with his usual dry humor, although a little more despondent than his usual. “Anything for Godlife.”

-

Through all of the roster changes Frost had run through, Sangmyeon has been with him the longest.

And maybe that’s why it makes sense that he’s the one who gets an honest answer out of Mingi. He gets it while he’s putting Mingi to bed, pulling off his shirt and shoes, unbuttoning his pants like a good friend would.

“Thank you for pushing me,” he says quietly, a whisper he hopes that Sangmyeon doesn’t hear. “For staying with me.”

But Sangmyeon does, because he’s always there for all of Mingi’s shit. “Of course, I’m the captain after all.”

Mingi obediently raises his legs to let Sangmyeon pull his jeans completely off, stumbles to slip into the shorts Sangmyeon throws at him from his bag.

“I want to keep playing,” he confesses, hoping he doesn’t sound as lost as he feels. “But for who, and where, and how—”

Sangmyeon looks over at him with a wry smile. “You have time to decide, don’t worry.”

He watches Sangmyeon pull off his own shirt, shuck off his pants and throw them to a corner. And he doesn’t quite realize what he’s doing when he lifts an arm and grabs Sangmyeon by the arm.

“Do you—”

Sangmyeon’s laugh is answer enough. “No idea,” he shakes his head, ruffles a hand through Mingi’s hair.

He pulls at Sangmyeon’s arm, sends him toppling down on top of him, and he can see the surprise in Sangmyeon’s face as he leans in.

“One more thing we can go through together, then,” he says, presses his face against Sangmyeon’s chest. And maybe he’s drunker than he thought, because his cheeks are flushed, and his heart is beating faster—

Sangmyeon wraps an arm around his shoulders, presses him close as he sighs. “Yeah.” 

- 

Sangmyeon wakes him up for the sunrise at the beach, forcibly drags him out of bed and dresses him as Mingi stumbles out of the hotel and onto the road outside. It’s beautiful—even when Mingi can barely keep his eyes open, squinting against the sun as orange and purple hues fill the sky.

Sangmyeon takes his hand in his own, and Mingi finds he doesn’t mind.

“What if we just don’t go back?” he asks, eyes finally fully opening to take in the way the water is starting to sparkle.

Sangmyeon doesn’t even bother to answer, just keeps staring out at the view, keeps his grasp on Mingi’s hand tight. He knows as well as Mingi does that they can’t run away forever, and he’s sure their inboxes are already full of e-mails they’ll eventually have to respond to.

“To the end of an era,” Sangmyeon eventually says, a little sarcastic. Mingi thinks can hear a tiniest thread of hope in it in the end, but that might just be his imagination, "To the future."

He looks out along the beach, watches the waves slowly brush along the shore and digs his feet into the sand. “To the future.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back to writing introspective character study, who knew I still had it in me


End file.
